


On Reflection

by EmbarrassedElephant



Series: The Curse Revamped [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Drunkenness, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt Fic, Strahd doesn't deserve a friend like Rahadin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29912274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmbarrassedElephant/pseuds/EmbarrassedElephant
Summary: There was no one else in the world that Rahadin truly considered to be family, that he considered to be a brother.
Relationships: Strahd von Zarovich & Rahadin
Series: The Curse Revamped [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199567
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	On Reflection

It wasn’t often that Rahadin found Strahd prone on the ground, eyes barely able to focus on the stars above, one hand wrapped tightly around the neck of a wine bottle.

In fact, Rahadin was certain it had never happened before. Strahd had always been partial to a good vintage, but this was extreme. He was sprawled out in the grass and dirt, completely unconcerned if he was staining his clothes, with no glass in sight so Rahadin could only conclude he was drinking straight from the bottle. No, this was no common occurrence and it begged… caution.

Rahadin approached quietly, his feet barely making a sound. It wasn’t until he was nearly standing on top of Strahd that he noticed Rahadin.

Strahd frowned.

“When did you learn magic?” Strahd said slowly, words on the cusp of slurring.

Rahadin raised an eyebrow. “Magic, my lord?”

Strahd gestured vaguely at Rahadin’s body. Rahadin looked down but noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

“I am not following.”

“The  _ magic _ , Rahadin. You’ve duplicated yourself, there’s two of…” Strahd’s word faded as he squinted at Rahadin. After a moment he relaxed, head lolling back to look at the stars. “Oh. There’s not two of you.”

Rahadin tried not to let his concern show on his face. Better to focus on the task at hand.

“Your family is expecting you, my lord.”

Strahd groaned. “Tell them I’ve died. Or something equally tragic.”

“I-”

“I am  _ not _ going,” Strahd interrupted, his hand tightening dangerously on the wine bottle, so much so Rahadin was certain it would break. So much tension in Strahd’s muscles, in his expression. What was bothering him so much? What pained Strahd so thoroughly that he was so far removed from his normal self?

“Of course, my lord.”

“Spending my evening at a couple’s event where I’m the only single one does not sound like my idea of fun,” Strahd mumbled.

Ah. So that was the crux of the issue. Rahadin didn’t know what to say. It was a fine line, having a conversation with a drunken superior. They may desire more honesty one moment and curse you the very next for speaking so openly. If he couldn’t figure out what to say, then he would do something.

So he sat down next to Strahd. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t look at Strahd pointedly or judgingly, he just let the silence take precedence.

“Why do I feel so empty,” Strahd said quietly.

That… was not something Rahadin had expected. He shifted, trying to appear casual and unconcerned but wanting,  _ needing _ to get a better look at Strahd. He had to understand what Strahd was going through before he could even hope to help. What he found in Strahd’s face, though… It left an ache in his heart. Strahd’s eyes were damp while tension furrowed his brow and wrinkled his forehead. His jaw was clenched so tightly and he just looked like he’d given up. Count Strahd von Zarovich, son of King Barov and Queen Ravenovia, conqueror of the valley of Barovia, looked weak.

Rahadin looked away, his own jaw clenching, quickly scanning the horizon to make certain no one could see his lord in such a state.

“I just-” Strahd sighed. “I mean, here I am spending the evening with my general while everyone else is inside dancing awkwardly, engaging in small talk, or whatever people do, and I’m here.” Strahd rushed through the words so quickly and in a much higher pitch than Rahadin had ever heard him speak in that it was difficult to catch everything. 

“Being single is not a reflection on your character, my lord,” Rahadin said, eyes still scanning. He was fairly certain no one was watching.

"You don't get it."

Rahadin hesitated. Something in the way Strahd spoke caught his attention. He glanced back. Was Strahd… pouting? Upset that Rahadin wasn't listening?

"I… would love to understand," Rahadin said, trying not to sound like he was asking a question.

"Father is dead and he never saw me as anything more than a soldier. Mother is dead and I can’t remember the last time she even looked me in the eye because she only saw a cold killer. Tatyana is marrying Sergei regardless of the chemistry she and I so clearly have and I’m fairly certain Sergei pities me. My younger brother pities me! He’s lived the life that I deserve, the life of a first born son of a king, when he doesn’t deserve it.”

“You have accomplished far more in your life than Sergei has.”

Strahd sat up and grunted in agreement, but otherwise fell silent. He focused on the blades of grass in front of him, picking and pulling them up from the ground and discarding them.

"But none of those accomplishments matter. I'm alone,” the pain in Strahd’s voice was evident. 

“You aren’t alone,” Rahadin said. He hadn’t planned to say it, but it just came tumbling out. Strahd scoffed before taking another long pull from the bottle. After a moment, he held it completely upside down over his mouth, but no wine came out.

“Shit. Another bottle somewhere,” Strahd stood and took only a step before he stumbled and started to fall. Rahadin was at his side in a flash, catching Strahd and righting him. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Strahd said and pushed Rahadin back. He stared at his feet and focused on taking one very slow step after another. Such a stubborn mule of a man. He’d give credit where credit was due, though. Strahd made it four steps this time before tumbling. This time Rahadin put Strahd’s arm over his shoulders and he wrapped an arm around Strahd’s waist.

“Let’s get you to your room,” Rahadin said.

“Wine first.”

“I will get you more wine, my lord.”

Strahd nodded in acceptance, and they slowly began making their way across the courtyard.

“You said ‘m not alone,” Strahd slurred. “How can you say that?”

“I won’t let you be alone, my lord.”

“Why?”

The answer seemed so obvious to Rahadin. He remembered his home, the dusk elves, and a corrupt, weak leader. The taste of anger on the back of his tongue as he renounced the corruption, the panic and the fury as he was exiled, the fear of rejection when he came to King Barov for help.

Rahadin had been so relieved when the Zarovich family agreed to aid him. Yes, it was King Barov who accepted Rahadin first, but it was Strahd who’d gone to battle against the dusk elves with him. It was Strahd who fought with him side by side on so many occasions. It was Strahd he could rely on, Strahd whom he felt comfortable around, regardless of hierarchy. 

Rahadin had been completely alone.

Empty.

And then there was Strahd. Strahd didn’t let him live in solitude.

So the answer seemed so obvious to Rahadin. He wouldn’t let Strahd be alone because they were one in the same. He wouldn’t let Strahd be alone because he cared for the man. He wouldn’t let Strahd be alone because there was no one else in the world that Rahadin truly considered to be family, that he considered to be a brother.

“Hey,” Strahd patted Rahadin’s cheek with his free hand, jarring Rahadin from his thoughts. Strahd held eye contact. “I asked you a question.”

Rahadin looked forward and continued pulling Strahd along. How could he say all of that and not sound ridiculous? Not sound like he was being too informal?

“Because you are my lord,” Rahadin said. It would have to do.


End file.
